Miasma Reborn
by Dinoracha
Summary: A young bunch of caravaners from a small village, a growing force in the northwest, and a group of lost spirits that wants to kill everyone... Why can't things be easy?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Beginning

Dente sighed as his caravan trodded along the path, the odd tree or two dotted around, with the dirt path giving them good traction. He looked up to the mid-afternoon sky, not a cloud in sight at all, the infinite blue bowl seemed... Infinite. The grassy hills rolled and dipped everywhere, a few mountains stretching up into the sky, making it seem a little smaller. He gave another sigh, the Papaopamus waddling away, not complaining at all about his job. He eased his way back in the caravan, and looked to the 16-year old Selkie girl looking out the window, her short, silver hair flapping in the breeze slightly, and her pink shirt had a slight bit of her taught belly showing. Her pink skirt went just a bit above her knees, and Dente sighed, not knowing what to think of her. His own clothes wasn't much either; a green vest with a white shirt underneath, and green shorts, a pair of white socks just a bit above his ankles. His blonde hair was all mussed up from the strong wind earlier. The Selkie looked over to him with a smile.

"Oh, hey Dente..." She said softly, and looked back out the window. Dente plopped down on a cushion, and looked to the Crystal Chalice next to him, it was now full, the Myrrh in it gently sloshing around,

"Whew, glad that's over..." He said with a sigh. The girl nodded.

"Yeah, me too..." She said, resting her head on her hand. Dente had a slight thought.

"Hey, Shareen..." He said, looking to the girl.

"Yeah, what is it?" Shareen said, looking back to him.

"What do you suppose will happen if Miasma goes away?" Dente said, rubbing his arm.

"I dunno... Maybe the war will continue again..." Shareen replied, looking to the window again. Ever since Miasma formed, all the races had to work together, stopping the war that had been raging for ages. Including the ever feuding Lilities and Selkies.

"And, that would mean..." Dente started.

"We'd all be split up again..." Shareen said, finisheing his sentence.

"But, why? All the races have been working together for so long... Why go against each other again?"

"We'd all probably get along for a little while... Until we start tearing at each other's throats again..." Shareen said with a small smile. Dente couldn't help but smile a little too.

"I hate to admit, but I actually want Miasma to stay... That way we'll all still be together..." He said, rubbing his head, knowing he said that wrong. Shareen cracked another smile.

"You know, I think the same thing too..." She said. He looked up to her with a slightly odd look.

"You... Do?" He said, slightly suprised. She nodded lightly.

"Yeah... We can all still be friends..." In a suprise move, Shareen got up, eased her way over to him, and hugged him lightly, resting her head on his chest.

"I just don't want to lose everyone I care for again..." She said, biting her lip. Dente blushed a little, never seeing Shareen act like this.

"Hey, hey... It's gonna be ok..." He said softly, unsure of how to comfort her.

"I hope so..." She sighed, trying not to look up to him. Dente gently put his hand on her head, stroking her hair a bit.

"Listen... Even if Miasma goes away, even if the war starts again, even if everyone tries to tear us apart..." He tipped her chin up so that she was looking right at him. "I promise, we'll all stick together..." Shareen smiled a bit, her cheeks were bright red now. She leaned up, and gave a light kiss on the cheek, and his cheeks went bright red now.

"Thanks... You know how to make everyone feel better..." She said quietly. Dente knew this was true, even though he didn't like to admit it. He was the softer one of the caravan, often a worry-wart, but not to the point of driving someone crazy. He tried his best to help others, even though he sometimes got in the way. He shrugged it off, and saw Tipa slowly come into view. "We're nearly home..." He said quietly. Shareen sat up, wiping her eyes a bit, as she eased out to take the reigns of the Popaopamus, giving it a light twitch, telling the blue creature to go just a bit faster. It gave a small squeak, sounding almost like a Moogle call. After a few more minutes, the two finally made it to the town gates, and the duo hopped off the caravan, packing their supplies and carrying the chalice as well. The Popaopamus rested itself down, taking a long breath in, almost like a sigh. Roland, the town elder was talking with Korcha's father, a old, gruff Blacksmith. Roland turned to see the duo coming.

"Ah! The caravan returns!" He exclaimed, as the other villagers crowded around them. "Come, come, we must bless the crystal soon..." He tugged the two along the village, stopping in front of the marvel of the village, the Myrrh Crystal. This was the only thing that kep Miasma at bay, using Myrrh to give it's protection more power. Roland pulled out his old book, no one really knowing what was in it. He took the chalice from Dente's arms, and placed it on the pedestal in front of the crystal. Roland turned to them.

"Not yet, caravaners... Nightfall, we'll bless the crystal again..." He said, and headed for his home. Dente and Shareen exchanged looks, and headed for Dente's home, him being a Alchemist. His family was now researching about Flan's, the jellatinous monster. They often wondered how it is that Flan's would almost never be hurt by physical damage, but would die instantly when hit by Fire, Ice, Thunder, and other elemental magic. The odd thing was, Flan's are not at all affected by Slow or Stop, being powerful spells. They won't even be fazed by Holy, the purifying spell. Dente sighed, he would always be brought into the arguement when he came home. He saw his family outside, and as usual, bickering amongst each other.

"You don't get it! Flan's bodies are total jelly, Fire melts it in a instant!"

"No, no, no! Flan's are made of magic essence, magic stone's to be exact!"

"Uh, well, if that's true, can we see a Flan be born if we put a stone of Fire out?"

"SAY WHAT!"

"Just a thought..."

Dente noticed his younger brother in the arguement as well, him not being interested in Alchemistry at all. He quietly tried to sneak past them, but his mother spotted him quickly.

"DENTE! Get over here and clear this all up!" She barked. Dente winced, and let his head fall as he trotted over, Shareen close behind. "Now Dente, tell us, what is the deal with Flan's?"

"Uh, well... See... Er..." Dente stuttered a tiny bit. Shareen poked him in the side, making him yelp a bit. "Uh, I need some sleep, sorry!" He took off running to the house, running inside quickly. Shareen blinked a few times, and his family went back to the arguement. She sighed, and quietly walked towards her house, her father sewing up some leather.

"Dad! I'm home!" She called out. Her father put the leather down, and propped himself up with his cane, hobbling to her.

"Still alive, I see..." He joked, giving her a light hug.

"I heard in the letter you got hurt..." She said, giving him a worried look.

"Yep! Went out to get some materials just outside the village. I went TOO far out... Miasma scored a nasty bit on my leg..." Her father looked to his leg, it seemed to be totally contortioned. "Some violent scene it was... Mercy, all that gas goin' around my leg... Started throwing it in all these weird shapes... Ugly scene indeed..." Shareen was almost asleep now, slightly bored by her father's lack of description.

"Right... Well, good to see you're still alive... I'm suprised, I thought the Miasma would do more to you..." She said with a smile.

"Bah, me? Killed by that ol' gas? You don't know this old Selkie good enough then..." Her father said, and hobbled into their house. Shareen rolled her eyes, and headed for the newly built school, which was quite a step for the old town. She stepped in through the doors, and she saw the elder Yuke teaching.

"Now class," The old Yuke squeaked. "Can anyone tell me the differences to all the races?" One little Lilty boy stood up.

"Um... Clavat's were one of the first races ever to be brought to the world..." The teacher nodded.

"Yes, that's right, keep going..."

"And... Of all their time, they learned how to master everything..." He started tapping his fingers. "Magic, mining, fishing, blacksmithy--" The teacher cut him off. "Yes, that will do, very good." She looked to a young Clavat boy. "How about you? What do you know about the Lility's?" the boy tugged at his shirt collar, standing up.

"W-w-well... When they came to the world, they were masters of battle, making them the strongest race... they created the finest weapons made of iron, but when the mines were gone, they lost their power..." The teacher clapped her fuzzy hands together. "Excellent! Anyone know of the Yuke's?" another Clavat, this one being a girl, got up.

"The Yuke's are the most powerful race when it comes to magic. No one knows why, but legends tell of the Yuke's coming from space, living on a meteor, crashed onto the world, letting them populate everywhere." The teacher nodded, her helmet clinking up and down.

"Good, good... And the Selkies?" Shareen payed close attention to one Selkie boy who stood up.

"The Selkie's are the most craftiest of the races; Their agility making them excellent theives..." He sighed, turning his head down. "But because of that, the Selkie's have been the most hated of all the races..." The teacher nodded, and motioned for him to sit down.

"Yes, you are all correct--" Shareen didn't bother to listen to the rest of the lecture, her feelings slightly torn from the boy's statement. The sun was now setting, and Roland was walking to the crystal, the chalice under his old arms. He had his book in his other arm, and set the chalice down on the pedestal in front of the crystal, and waited for the other's to gather.

After a few more hours, it was nightfall, and torches were lit everywhere, all the residents now gathered around the glimmering crystal, the families of the caravaner's, to be exact. Dente and Shareen took their place in front, holding torches up high, while Roland turned to the crystal, turned his book open, and started encanting the odd language. He slowly waved his hand around, the chalice glowing a tiny bit, the ritual under way. After a few moments, a huge swirling dirvish of light now encircled the chalice and cthe crystal, while the Myrrh slowly floated upwards, and floated into the crystal, a blinding light flashing for a few seconds, then slowly subsiding. Roland closed his book, and turned to the crowd.

"Now, we celebrate!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Dente's Journal

Dente sighed as he sprawled out on his bed, remebering the whole year of his travel. He pulled out his dusty old journal, and flipped it open, skipping past his earlier year's worth of travelling. He came to rest at his 4th chapter, and with a old quill, he began to write.

Year 4- Another year, another battle scar. My grandpa used to say that, every time he came from a caravan travel. He was a tough old fart, always showing a brave face, even when he had about 23 scars all over him... Funny thing, he was really old, but he was a good fighter... He could slice anything down with his old sword. I use the same sword on my travels, much to the dismay of fellow caravan's. They always say I should get a better sword, one that's new and much better looking. Bah, I say to them. My grandpa's sword is strong enough, strong as any sword I've seen. That's the weird part, it IS strong as any sword I've seen. I really don't get how a old sword can be so tough... Well, I won't lose sleep over it, not really that important...

I'll tell you something that IS important... sigh I hate to admit it, but I'm starting to like Shareen... Not as a fellow caravner, but something a bit more... Not lovey-dovey mushy stuff, but more of a friendship... I know, I know, Clavat's and Selkie's never get along, but what do they know? I mean, she has never done anything that resembles being a criminal... I don't get it, but when she and I were coming back to Tipa, when she hugged me... Gah, I don't get it, I felt all fuzzy inside... Dammit, I hope this is not what I think it is...

Dente rubbed his head a little, setting the quill down. He slowly closed the journal, and placed it on top of his pillow. He quietly stood up, and walked over to his window, overlooking the blacksmith's home, the Crystal, and Shareen's home. He squinted, trying hard to see Shareen in her bedroom, even though it was nightime. He saw Shareen fixing up her clothes, and setting her racket in her closet, and plopping down on her bed. She nearly dosed off, but she got up again, and started to go change into her night robe... Dente snapped his head away, not looking at the rest of the scene. He started to blush a little, feeling embaressed that he nearly got caught. He sighed, and lyed down on his bed again, his eyelids slowly feeling more and more heavy, until they fell shut, and he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Shareen's Journal

Shareen smoothed her sky blue robe out, it falling just below her knees. She sat down, and reached under her bed, pulling out as well a tattered old journal. She had plucked a fine feathered quill from a jar of ink, and flipped through the pages, resting on a blank one. She soon began to write.

Year 4- It's been quite a year, even though it's been the same as the others. Not much has changed, except that new school. That old Yuke... I just don't understand it. She's been around longer than Roland, and yet she seems so youthful... Well, not much to lose sleep over, my grandma once said. Dente has changed alot, I've noticed... Before, he was all serious and such, but... He's kind of turned into a softy... It makes him a bit cuter, I must admit, but it seems odd... Anyways, there's that new Miasma Stream we'll have to hit soon. I hate those things... They're so... Dead. There's no life at all; The tree's are annihalated, the ground is rotted, and Miasma everywhere... It gives me nightmares sometimes, but still, I press onward... I just know Dente will keep me safe, I know it...

Shareen gave a small sigh, setting the quill back. She re-read the last sentence over 5 times, smiling a little each time. She gently layed journal beside her, looking up at the ceiling for a while, before soon falling asleep.


End file.
